


Luguvalium: A Roman Destiel (No, Not Just An Excuse To Get Dean Winchester Into A Skirt)

by Cerdic519



Series: Castivel et Decanus [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - 4th Century, Battle, Celts, Conspiracy, Dean has too much sex, Dean in a skirt (sorta), Destiel - Freeform, England - Freeform, F/M, Hadrian's Wall, M/M, Omega Castiel, Power Bottom Castiel, Rescue, Roman Britain, Scots (but not from Scotland), Soldier Dean, Spies & Secret Agents, Viagra, herbalist Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:38:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 9,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7820002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is three hundred and sixty-seven years after the birth of Christ. Emperor Valentinian rules over a weakened Western Empire, whose northern border on the island of Britannia is defended by Hadrian's great wall now some two centuries old. As that Empire's ever more powerful enemies of plan their greatest attack yet, a quiet omega herbalist living in the border town of Luguvalium is ready – until the arrival of a gorgeous alpha soldier-cum-sex-god throws his preparations into turmoil. Can the love of Castivel and Decanus survive rebellion, hostage-taking, Latin, little blue pills, the alpha wearing a (sort of) skirt, and the omega wearing... well, not much?<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Occurit Res Bonae

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blitzdrake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blitzdrake/gifts), [ginger_angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginger_angel/gifts), [Premarosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Premarosa/gifts).



> Occurit Res Bonae = 'good things do happen'  
> Happy birthday to one perfect angel!

Ante diem quinque Nonas Martiae  
[March 3rd]

'Occurit Excreta'.

The priest at Eboracum (1), Father Christian, often preached that good things do happen. Decanus (2) was more in agreement with the variation scratched above the entrance to his barracks, in that what did happen was more excreta than res bonae!

The only upside of his being transferred last year from the relatively warm (i.e. less bloody cold) south of the country had been that his brother Samus and half-brother Adamus had both come with him. But that happiness had been short-lived, as last week Sammy had been transferred on to one of the forts on Hadrian's Wall, a place with the frankly daft name of Fanum Cocidi (3). Dean (as he preferred to be called) had been resigned to his going and had waved him off, but he had then gone and put his name down for the next available transfer to replenish the Wall garrisons. As a legates, and one of the senior rankings in the Imperial forces he might have to wait some time, so he had set himself to learn about his brother's new base for when it happened.

What Dean had learnt had been more than a little alarming. Contrary to what he had believed, Fanum Cocidi was not actually a fort in the Wall but one of a small number of advance scout posts, whose job was to see trouble coming and then retreat to the Wall so defences could be readied in preparation for any attack. The Wall itself was formidable enough – over seventy miles long, stretching between two small estuaries to cut off the barbarous northern tribes, and with extra forts along the north-west coast to prevent them from going 'around the end'. And there was not just the Wall itself, some twenty foot high and ten foot thick, but it had a huge ditch in front of it, forts of varying sizes about a mile apart along its length, and was backed by a military road allowing fast transfer of troops and even a second earthwork. It was as much a statement of Roman power as anything else; the fact that it was kept whitewashed so it could be visible for miles around told that.

The idea of his Sammy being not behind such a solid defence but out in the middle of nowhere horrified Dean. He may even have paid a visit to the totally unofficial pagan temple in the city and offered up some prayers for assistance; Christianity might be the official religion of the Empire these days, but the soldier could take whatever help he could get where his little brother was concerned. And whichever god it was that came through for him he did not care, because he had barely got back to the barracks before the camp commander told him that yes, he would be taking a group of some fifty men to replenish the western garrisons of the Wall, and he could include his half-brother in that total. Score!

The alpha had no idea just what he was heading into.

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) Now York ('place of the yew trees') a Roman town established around the year 71. It lies about 200 miles north of London and 140 miles south-east of Carlisle. At least one legion was permanently based there.  
2) The name means 'one of ten'. One of Dean's ancestors may have been a decurion (similar to a corporal today), the position to which his brother had recently been promoted. As a legates Dean was roughly equivalent to a modern brigadier general. Promotion came fast in those days, driven by the fact the army in Britain was always under strength.  
3) Literally 'the shrine of Cocidius', a local god equated with the Roman Mars, god of war. Now the small village of Bewcastle. It lies about 20 miles north-east of Carlisle and 10 north of Banna (Birdoswald), the nearest point on the Wall.  
The Roman dating system is really, really horribly complicated, and is explained at the end of the story.


	2. Mens Sana In Corpore Sano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mens sana in corpore sano = 'a healthy mind in a healthy body'. Sometimes the 'sano' is changed to 'delictis' (beautiful).

Ante diem quattuor Idus Martiae  
[March 12th]

When you are named for the first great Celtic leader to stand up to the Romans (1), you might fairly be expected to regard the foreign rulers of your country with a certain degree of dislike. Hence until last week Castivel, herbalist for Luguvalium (2) had been of the opinion that the Romans had brought only three real benefits to his local area.

First, on a general level they had generally stopped the local Celtic tribes from constantly knocking seven bells out of each other. True, there were occasional raids along the coast from the hostile Scots (3), but all in all this was a generally peaceful time. The last uprising against Roman rule had been six years ago, and had been a pretty sorry affair. 

Second, and on a more personal level, they offered Cas (as all the locals called him) protection. Shortly after the omega's coming of age three years back his father had decided to brew a particularly potent concoction of herbs one day, and Cas had returned to find house and parents replaced by a large crater. For some reason the town authorities, grateful though they were to still have a herbalist in the area, were not that keen on having him ply his apparently explosive trade in a built-up area, and he had been given a small house by the bridge over the fast-flowing River Ituna (4), between the town and the adjoining fort of Uxelodunum (5). 

The new house had led to the third benefit, when a couple of years ago the fort commander had offered him the position of a miles arcani or secret soldier, one of the band of agents who kept tabs on the locals and gave warnings of any planned uprisings. There were of course no opportunities for omegas to fight on the front line (for which Cas was more than grateful), and it brought in some much-needed extra income. And when the next major uprising came, he could make sure the Romans were looking in totally the wrong direction.

Unfortunately that plan had been scotched by the recent arrival of a fourth benefit. Cas knew that the men of the garrison were limitanii (quite literally 'the limited ones'), fully trained men lacking only battle experience. Their job was to hold the fort against attackers whilst the more experienced field army could be assembled some distance from the fighting and then rush to the rescue. Though with the nearest legions over a hundred miles away to the south, the people of Luguvalium might rightly feel that they were on the edge of empire. The fort's manpower was irregularly reinforced from these distant garrisons – and last week one of those replacements had most definitely caught Cas' eye.

Decanus. About Cas' age, and most definitely all alpha. He had sandy blond hair cut unfashionably short, yet it suited him as it drew attention to his green eyes and chiselled features, not in the least marred by the sort of knowing look he had shot at two passing ladies (unfortunately for him, one of them had been his new commanding officer's lady friend, and the other the lady's daughter!). The sort of knowing look that said he knew how to put that muscled body to good use. And as for those bowed legs – never mind corpore sano, he was pure corpore delictis! Cas had been fortunate that he had been upwind of the man when he had first seen him and that his omega scent had not carried, because he had most definitely been aroused.

Yes, Decanus – Dean, as he called himself – was going to be his, bowed legs and all. Except there was one very slight problem......

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) Cassivelaunus, whose name may have meant 'passionate leader' (!).  
2) Now Carlisle. The Romans had rebuilt and expanded the Celtic town of Caer Luguvalid ('fort of Lugus' strength', after a local three-headed deity) as Luguvalium ('we're good at conquering but crap at new names').  
3) Confusing, the people of Ireland (Roman 'Hibernia' from the Greek Ierne ('abundant land'). The Scots were a tribe from the north of the island with whom they had the most contact, particularly as they indulged in piracy. Later some Scots would cross over and end up ruling the Picts, renaming their country 'Scotland'.  
4) Now the River Eden, indeed from the Celtic word for 'fast flowing'.  
5) Now Stanwix, and a suburb of Carlisle. The Roman name meant simply 'high fort'; the place was subsequently abandoned then resettled around the start of the second millennium, the fort being lost under the new village. Stanwix, appropriately, means 'stone wall'.


	3. Miles Gloriosus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miles Gloriosus = 'glorious soldiers'

Idus Martiae  
[March 15th]

Dean would have cursed his luck, but.... well, he was beginning to wonder if sometimes good things did happen after all. Even on the anniversary of the day when twenty-three of poor old Julius Caesar's closest friends had each stuck him with a dagger on the floor of the Senate. The Army was, he considered, sometimes less dangerous that politics, even if he was right next door to a whole horde of barbarians (1) here.

No, until his arrival in this godforsaken hole of a fort – and its soldiers were not anywhere near the 'miles gloriosus' banner over the entrance - Dean had been depressed with the way his life had gone. He had paraded his men for inspection, flirted with two passing women (which had turned out to be a mistake as they were a local tavern owner and her daughter, the former also the lady-friend of the fort's commanding officer who had been less than impressed), then followed grouchy old Rovertus back to his quarters for 'a talk'. 

And that was when he had smelled it. Omega! In the barracks of all places, it was absolutely definitely omega, and Dean had become almost instantly and painfully hard. 

Rovertus, taking pity on the young soldier, had explained that the omega in question was the town's herbalist, who did a far better job in keeping the soldiers well than their last fort doctor ever had. This man lived in a house by the bridge between the fort and town, and according to the commander was one to be taken lightly. Which was fine by Dean, as he was already working out ways to take him whatever way he could.

Except a week on, and the process of settling in had meant he had no time to pursue the object of his night-time fantasies (and thank God his room was a way apart from his men!). He had learned that Castivel – bizarre name! - was about his age, single, and was actually registered in the Imperial Army as a miles arcani, doubtless picking up gossip on his travels as he 'herbalized' around the local area. 

Dean had been seriously thinking about faking some sort of injury to get the man's attention, only for events today to forestall him. He had led a group of soldiers out on a march to Castra Exploratum (2), one of the advance forts beyond the Wall, and they had been ambushed on the way back. Nothing his men couldn't cope with, though they had sustained some cuts and bruises before killing two of the attackers and forcing the rest to flee. Back at the fort Dean sent a message to Castivel asking if he was able to attend. Annoyingly he was out, so the legatus had to administer what little help he could to the injured men before retiring to dinner.

He was just finishing his meal when he heard a loud roar outside, and raced out to see what was happening. Cainus, one of the injured men and a huge bear of an alpha, was limping back to his room, which seemed strange as Dean was sure he had been wounded in the arm. Rovertus came up behind him.

“Another of the newbies discovers that some omegas have bite” he grinned. “And a vicious right uppercut when handled the wrong way. Time for beer?”

Dean looked at the retreating form of the dark-haired omega – hell, he looked like he had been through a tornado – before nodding his agreement and following his superior. A sassy omega. Interesting.

His dreams that night were also... interesting.

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) The Romans usually called the northern third of the island Caledonia, after a tribe who lived in the Great Glen and who had proved formidable opponents during the failed invasion back in 84. The people were more commonly called Picts, literally the painted people for the war-paint they wore into battle. Culturally they were different from the Britons in Roman territory although both were Celts.  
2) Now Netherby, just over ten miles north-north-east of Carlisle.


	4. Pro Patria Mori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pro patria mori = 'to die for one's country'

Ante diem sex Kalendis Aprilae  
[March 27th]

As was often the way with Roman towns, Luguvalium was ruled by a Celtic chieftain who collected taxes and generally ran the place as a small fiefdom. Their Latin overlords did not really care so long as there was peace and they got their taxes on time. The only minor difference here was that the old chief, Metatron, had died (in somewhat suspicious circumstances) and that his widow Naomi had taken over (Cas was not the only one to strongly suspect that she had been the suspicious circumstances).

Both Cas and Naomi knew that there was going to be another uprising soon, but only he knew the full extent of it. This was going to be the big one, possibly even marking the end for Roman rule in the island. Over winter a deal had been struck between the Scots to the west, the Picts to the North and the Saxons (1) over in Europe that, on the first day of April, they would all attack the island simultaneously. The Roman defences would be overwhelmed, and there would be plunder and loot for all.

As the ruler of the city in the front line of the attack Naomi had been forewarned, if not briefed of the full extent of what had been planned. The day before, she was to close the city gates and send a message to the fort that a strange and highly infectious sickness had broken out, and the place would have to be sealed off for as long as it took to die down. The invaders planned to breach the wall one or both sides of the fort, then sweep round and cut it off from the town. Cas had a sneaking suspicion that Naomi saw herself as a new Cartimandua (2), hoping to eventually rule the whole of the old Brigantes lands of the north, but because he rather liked his body parts in their current arrangement he kept that thought to himself.

Today he had had to make the short trip to Coggabata (3), the next but one fort west where several of the men had come down with food poisoning. Cas knew the cook here, and was frankly surprised that he had just three men to treat. Obviously they were developing an immunity to the daily assaults on their poor innards, though someone had vandalized the fort's motto 'pro patria mori', replacing the middle word with 'cena' (dinner). Roman 'humour'!

He called in at a house in the village where he had helped the goodwife there, Anna, safely deliver her baby when she had lived in Luguvalium a few years back. She smiled in welcome.

“I have some gossip for you, Cassie”, she said cheerfully. “I know how much you enjoy that.”

“Go on”, he said. “And do not call me Cassie!” 

She grinned.

“I was with my friend Molly in Mais (4) last week”, she said, “whilst she gave birth to her latest. I went out for some air during the night and saw across to Caledonia – and there were a whole group of men landing from somewhere. Hibernia, I'll be bound.”

“Would not the men at the fort there have seen them?” Cas asked dubiously. She shook her head.

“There was a heavy fog rolling up the valley that night”, she said. “I could barely make them out myself, and I lost them after just a few minutes. Those bastard Scots are up to something, I'll be bound.”

Yes, Cas thought. And now I cannot let the Romans in the fort go unprepared because the alpha of my dreams is among them. Oh faex! (5).

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) The Old Saxons, who lived in what is now north-west Germany. They later migrated to modern Saxony, on the border with what is now the Czech Republic. Saxons got their name from the 'seax' or short sword they used; the Romans had imported many to settle along the southern and south-eastern coast of Britannia ('the Saxon Shore') as mercenaries. Ultimately an unwise move....  
2) Queen of the Brigantes (roughly England's six most northerly counties) when the Romans first invaded.  
3) Now Drumburgh, a village whose name means 'ridge near the fort'. The Roman name's derivation is unclear, as it appears spelled several different ways. It may refer to the slight hill the fort sits on.  
4) The western end of the Wall; the name meant simply 'big' (major); it was the second largest fort after Uxelodunum. The nearby village was later called Bowness, which means 'rounded headland'.  
5) Faex = shit!


	5. Vestis Virum Facit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vestis virum facit = 'clothes maketh the man'

Pridie Kalendis Aprilae  
[March 31st]

Dean was suspicious. 

The first sign of trouble had been the daily delivery of supplies from the town not turning up at the fort. Not that that posed an immediate problem – any commander worth their salt (1) kept several months worth of supplies to hand, in case of siege – but it rang an alarm bell in the alpha's mind, even before the message came from Lady Naomi that a sickness had broken out in the town and the gates were closed to all traffic whilst it was dealt with. Dean did not trust that woman.

“I think there is something more to this”, he told Rovertus at their daily meeting. “Did Ellen say anything about it?”

The elderly commander shook his head.

“There's the usual gossip against foreign rule”, the alpha said, scratching his beard, “but no more than usual. People round here have to have something to complain about.”

“Only I went to the gatehouse this morning”, Dean said, “and saw that Cas' – uh, the herbalist was home. Or at least his chimney was smoking a bit.”

“So?” Rovertus said, not smirking. Dean hated him a little for that.

“So why isn't he round the town healing and crap?” the young soldier asked. “Isn't that his job?”

“When he's paid, like the rest of us”, his commander said. “Which reminds me; there was another scrap between your men and some of the local boys last night.”

“I thought we were all supposed to be one happy, cosmopolitan empire”, Dean grumbled. “So much for that theory!”

“You might go down to the man's house and ask if he has any news on what ails the town”, his commander said casually.

“Good idea”, Dean grinned. “I'll go and change.”

“Vestum virum facit”, the commander muttered.

“What?”

“Best togs for such an incredible journey?” he said. “You've got it bad, boy!”

Dean did not even bother to deny it. And if he changed into his pteruges (2) with all his battle honours on it, well, it was because he was on official duty. Not showing off at all.

Shut up.

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) People were sometimes paid in salt, a valuable commodity when it was the only means of preserving precious food supplies over time, hence the word 'salary'.  
2) From a Greek word meaning feathers, this was the skirt consisting of leather strips. Some Romans who liked to show off (i.e. nearly all of them) would have successful campaign badges etched into each strip.


	6. Veritas Nudus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Veritas nudus = 'the naked truth'

Pridie Kalendis Aprilae  
[March 31st]

Cas woke from a very pleasant dream involving a certain bow-legged green-eyed soldier, and wondered what had got him up at this ungodly hour. He did not usually do mornings, regarding them as the devil's work, and everyone in the town knew that full well.

“Cas – er, Castivel? It's Dean, from the fort. Uh, Decanus. The legates.”

The omega was still half-asleep, which may have explained why he merely wrapped his naked body in his blanket before getting up and going to open the door. Only when he saw the shocked alpha outside did it belatedly occur to him that that may not have been the best course of action. Then again, judging from said alpha's suddenly rapid breathing and darkened eyes, maybe it had been. Do not smirk, do not smirk, do not smirk....

“What is it?” he growled. The alpha's eyes widened even further; Cas had also forgotten that his voice took about an hour every morning to rise to the standard octave expected for a human, let alone for an omega.

“Mwah?”

The omega stepped back and crossed to his bed, pulling out his tunic and shirt before dropping the blanket to what was most definitely a strangled gasp from the doorway. His visitor stumbled forward and all but slammed the door behind him, and Cas may or may not have wigged his backside a bit as he shimmied into his clothes. Judging from the poorly suppressed whine from behind him, he probably did. Best let the alpha see his veritas nudus so he would know just what he was getting himself into.

Soon, Cas' inner voice hissed. Very soon.

“Omega!” Dean hissed. “Ye Gods, have you no shame?”

“I live alone”, Cas said dryly, “and I am sure you have seen much worse in your time in the Roman army. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, soldier brave?”

It was the right side of pleasurable to watch the alpha struggling for his words. 

“Uh, we've been told there is a sickness in the town”, his visitor said. “But you aren't helping out.”

“The townsfolk know well that I do not 'do' mornings”, Cas said firmly, not forgetting the air-quotes, “and short of a life-or-death emergency they know not to disturb me much before noon. I like my bed.”

There was a definite moan, only partly suppressed, as the alpha looked over to the wreckage that was Cas' bed. The omega smiled to himself. Dean was his – well, if he could get past tomorrow's minor problem.

“I like your skirt”, Cas said, approaching and raising one of the leather straps. He noted the tremor in the bowed legs as he read the inscription on the strap. “Fascinating.”

“What?” That voice had to be two clear octaves and then some above the omega's own.

“I always thought Romans wore underwear”, Cas grinned. “But I suppose your approach... saves time?”

The alpha shrieked, turned and fled, almost tearing the door off its hinges in his haste to get out. Cas grinned. That alpha was his!


	7. Quid Agis, Medice?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quid agis, medice? = 'what's up, doc?'

Kalendis Aprilae  
[April 1st]

“Cas.... oh Cas... Caaaaaaas!”

“Sir?”

Dean's eyes shot open. Hell-fire and damnation, it was after midnight, there was someone in his room, and worst of all, it was not a terrifying omega sex god with impossible hair. Who did not do mornings but might definitely do Dean.

He yawned and recognized Adam, who he remembered was on guard duty that night. His half-brother was red-faced, and so was Dean when he realized what the young soldier had just walked in on.

“Uh, the herbalist is at the gate, sir”, Adam said, looking everywhere but at the notable tent in the middle of the blanket. “He asked if you could get up..... I mean......”

“I'll be down in a minute”, Dean grumbled. He looked hard at his relative, who fortunately took the hint and fled. Then he looked at the blanket, where at least part of him was seemingly still thinking about a certain omega.

Maybe more than a minute.

+~+~+

There was no way that omega could know what he had interrupted, Dean thought as he stared across the table into a pair of impossibly blue eyes. No way. 

When in doubt, deflect.

“Quid agis, medice?” the soldier quipped.

The omega just looked at him.

“The sky, I believe”, Cas said, shaking his head in disapproval. “I picked up some news on my rounds today. In light of what it was I came here as soon as I could, once I had finished with my patients.”

“We do pay your wages”, Dean groused. He needed his bed, preferably with a messy-haired sex god on his back in it whilst Dean thrust into him repeatedly and screamed his....

Someone who was not Dean coughed pointedly. Oh. Reality.

“This is very bad, Dean”, he said heavily, and that sexy growl was Definitely Not Helping Matters. “Tomorrow large numbers of Picts will cross the border and may attack the fort. May; they will of course pick off the outlying farms first, but they will be many in number. They will attempt to breach the Wall.”

“We have beaten them enough times before”, Dean said shortly.

“You will find it harder this time”, the omega said.

The hesitation, Dean knew, was for him to realize that it was indeed getting harder. Quite quickly in the presence of this man. 

“They call it the Great Conspiracy”, the omega said. “It is not just the Picts this time. The Scots will be attacking the west coast as far south as Deva (1), and the Saxons will be raiding up and down the east coast. You will get no help from either Deva or Eboracum; they will both have their hands full. The Scots may even be organized enough to send a party against the town from the south.”

“What about your house?” Dean asked. If the Scots did come in from the south, their first target would be to try to cut the bridge by the herbalist's house that linked fort and town, and surround the former. At least he knew his suspicions as regarded that cow Lady Naomi had been right. 

“I spoke with Ellen at the Roadhouse, and she has her daughter and her son-in-law arranging for everything to be moved to her place”, Cas said. “It should be done by now. My guess – and I am guessing here – is that the Picts will send a small party at first, hoping to draw you out from behind the walls, and only then attack. You must not be fooled.”

“You think I can be so easily duped?” Dean scoffed.

The omega sat back and folded his arms eyeing the alpha thoughtfully. For possibly the first time in his life Dean knew what prey felt like, and he did not like it.

Although from the fact that he could not move back from the table just now without severely embarrassing himself, at least one part of him did.

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) Now Chester, about 140 miles south of Carlisle; a legion was sometimes based there. The Roman name meant 'watery' ('dewy'), and survived as the local river, the Dee. Where the Anglo-Saxons later settled, they sometimes used Roman towns because of their fortifications, adding the Roman word for fort ('castra') to the old name (or in Chester's case, replacing it completely). Hence for example Corinium became Cirencester, Danum became Doncaster, Viroconium became Wroxeter and Venta became - Winchester.


	8. Sic Sapis, Sic Apis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sic sapis, sic apis = 'if you are wise, be a bee'

Kalendis Aprilae  
[April 1st]

“That boy is good”, Rovertus remarked, as he and Dean stood on top of the fort's northern wall. Two small parties of Picts had approached the fort, but were holding off. “They do plan to lure us out. Well, they can sit out there in the rain for as long as it takes them to realize we aren't playing harpascum.” (1)

Dean was silent, worrying about a certain herbalist who had had to relocate and might be about to lose his house. Fortunately the latest reports from the south were that the Scots were not (yet) headed this way.

“Houses can be rebuilt”, his commander said shortly. “Besides, he's more worried about his hives along the riverbank. Should we bring over a couple of extra small catapults ready for when those idiots do come?”

“Sic sapis, sic apis”, Dean mused. “I think we would do better leaving them guarding the river for now. If they do try that route to get to the bridge and destroy it, it would demoralize the soldiers in the fort.” 

At least Cas was safe in the town.

“We need to send across the Wall to see how the other forts are coping”, Rovertus said. “I wonder if....”

He was interrupted by the arrival of one of his men, who bowed.

“Get on with it”, the commander said shortly.

“Sir, we've just had a man arrive from Banna, out east”, the man said urgently. “Their advance fort at Fanum Cocidi has been totally overrun; one man and his commanding officer initially got away, but the officer was captured.”

Dean had gone pale.

“What of the officer?” he asked urgently.

“The survivor thinks that he was most likely taken to the chief of the Gadeni (2), sir”, the soldier said. 

“Do you know the man?” Rovertus asked. Dean nodded.

“My little brother Sammy”, he said heavily. “This tribal chieftain – do you know him?”

He spotted the hesitation before the answer came, and his hopes slumped even more.

“He will hold him as hostage”, the commander said confidently. “Alistair loves nothing more than money, unless you count killing four members of his own family – parents included – to become chieftain.”

“Great!” Dean said.

+~+~+

The surviving soldier confirmed what Dean had been told, but was able to add little more. Sammy had been out scouting when the fort had been attacked by over a hundred men. The soldier had been down in the nearby village when the attack had taken place and had fled along the road leading south the Wall, where he had met his commander. The two had been chased down by a single rider from the fort and had split, and unfortunately (from Dean's point of view), the rider had gone after and captured his brother.

Damn and blast!

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) A probable forerunner of English football (soccer). Very little is known of it, but it may have been closer to Australian Rules Football than modern soccer.  
2) The Celtic tribe who lived just north of the Wall.


	9. Velocius Quam Asparagi Coquantor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velocius quam asparagi coquantor = 'faster than you can cook asparagus' (i.e. pretty damn quick!)

Ante diem octo Nonas Aprilae  
[April 2nd]

“Where are you going, Cas?”

The omega put the last of his flasks into his travelling satchel and turned to face the landlady. 

“I am off to the western forts, to see if anyone needs my assistance”, he said.

“Take care”, she warned. “By the numbers that were reported north of here, they may well have breached the Wall that far out, or at least be close to so doing.”

“As a doctor, I have no lord or master but the desire to save and improve lives”, he said. “But yes, I will take care.”

+~+~+

Aballaba (1), the next fort west after the gap caused by the river, was suspiciously quiet, Cas thought. Then again Ellen had told him that the great rising twenty-five years ago (2) had seen the Gadeni throw all their strength against Uxelodunum, ignoring the smaller forts as not worth the trouble. That time the fort had fallen after a bloody battle, but the walls of the city had held firm. Doubtless the Celts were looking for gains without such heavy losses this time round.

Coggabata and Mais were similarly quiet, and Cas called into both adjoining villages, spending a few pleasant moments chatting with Anna in the former. At Mais Cas got to treat an unlucky Gadeni scout who had been sent across overnight to look at how well-defended the coast was, and been injured by a chance shot from one of the fort catapults. The omega knew that several of the townsfolk would probably have liked to have put to death, but the one time before when some locals had done such a thing after he had asked them not to, Cas had refused to treat that village for a year as a result, except for emergency cases. The man would be let loose to make his way back to his master, which given how the Gadeni regarded failure might be punishment enough.

“My chief is all puffed up because he caught a Roman soldier in the raid on the advance forts yesterday”, the scout said conversationally. “Samus, he is called. Alistair hopes to ransom him, because his brother Decanus is someone big at the main fort.”

Cas froze.

“And will Alistair treat his captive well?” he asked tentatively.

“So long as he thinks there is money to be made, he will.”

“Did his men sustain any injuries in the fight?” Cas asked.

“A few”, the scout said, shrugging. “Not that he cares.”

“I have had dealings with your chieftain before”, Cas said. “I will go back with you, and offer to treat his men.”

He knew that the scout was surprised at an omega putting himself in such danger, though the man said nothing. 

“I may be able to help negotiate a deal in which your chief can get what is coming to him”, Cas added. “At times like this one must move 'velocius quam asparagi coquantor (3), as the Romans say.”

Besides, he though to himself with a smile, he would have a certain advantage in any dealings with that slimy little Pict.

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) Now Burgh-by-Sands (pronounced 'bruff', meaning 'the fortified place by the sands). 'Aballaba' meant simply 'orchard', so presumably there was one nearby, though no trace survives today.  
2) Unless Emperor Constans had a sudden impulse to give several thousand of troops a holiday on the island, something was going down.  
3) A real Roman saying; asparagus was cooked quickly, so anything faster was really fast.


	10. Pretium Sit Verum

Pretium sit verum = 'the price is true' (i.e. you get what you pay for).

Ante diem septem Nonas Aprilae   
[April 3rd]

Dean was frantic for news of his brother, now held captive by a powerful enemy. The only small ray of light was that the Celts would not normally harm their captives – well, at least the ones they could make money out of – though he worried that the price of getting Sammy back might be high. But whatever it was, he would raise it.

Thanks to the men he had brought up from Eboracum what seemed a lifetime ago, the fort was not far short of full strength, and they had been helped by the men of Castra Exploratum having made it here (although their vivid descriptions of the enemy numbering 'thousands' had been less welcome). The defenders had to have a concentration of men where the Wall ran down to the river, archers both sides of the river gap and a force on the path behind ready for any attempt by the Celts to push through. Worse, a rider had got through from one of the eastern forts that morning with news that the local Celts were across the Wall there and advancing southwards, though fortunately the high hills in between them and Dean's fort made them Eboracum's problem, not his.

That morning had also brought a second messenger, again a surprising one. One of the fort's soldiers had been trapped in the town when the 'disease outbreak' had started, and late yesterday had managed to slip out of the south gate and, after a long detour to avoid being shot at from the town walls, reach the fort. Apart from him not having seen signs of any outbreak (shock horror), he had brought two lots of news with him, both bad. The first was that the Scots had attacked and ransacked the fort at Alauna (1) on the west coast, and were now raiding across northern Britannia. The only hope was their reportedly huge numbers would be dispersed in gathering easy plunder away from the large towns, and that they would not be organized enough to come this far north.

The second piece of news was, as far as Dean was concerned, infinitely more alarming. Cas had left his tavern home to go and treat anyone who needed in the western forts, and as of last night he had not returned. Perhaps equally worryingly the soldier brought a letter from Ellen that reassured Dean that this was not unusual (she obviously knew something that he would really rather she did not), and that the omega had a female friend with whom he sometimes stayed in the village adjoining Coggabata.

Dean was not jealous. He was not. That woman might be a sister for all he knew, and the landlady had just 'forgotten' to mention that fact.

Lord, but he was in deep!

+~+~+

That afternoon a Celt advanced from the besieging side under a white flag, riding rapidly up to the fort's northern gate before leaving something at the door. Once he had gone the items were brought to Rovertus, and he and Dean examined them. One was a demand for a sum of gold for the return of a soldier that had been captured the other day. The other was a short note in that soldier's writing, addressed to Dean.

It was Sammy's writing. And clearly he had been forced to write what Dean considered to be one of the most horrible (if most true) of all Roman sayings, pretium sit verum, at the bottom of a note pleading for his release. Because the sum for his release was astronomical!

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) Now Maryport, just over 25 miles south-west of Carlisle. The Roman name, derivation unknown, survives in the local river, the Ellen, and the area nearby called Allerdale. It was the westernmost of the chain of forts aimed at preventing Celts from going round the end of the wall and crossing the Solway Firth.


	11. Sunt Facta Verbis Difficiliora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunt facta verbis difficiliora = 'works are harder than words' (i.e. deeds, not words)

Ante diem septem Nonas Aprilae  
[April 3rd]

Cas was not surprised when he and the scout, a beta named Brian, promptly struck north-east once they were across the river. Sure enough, a few miles later he was at Castra Exploratum, or what remained of it.

“We got no-one here”, Brian said. “I think they took one look at our numbers and fled.”

Cas was not surprised. The place was crawling with Picts.

+~+~+

It was said that long ago, before the Celts came to Britannia and drove the previous bunch of natives into the far north and west, they had already split into two distinct cultures, the Goidelic (or Gaelic) and Prythonic (or Britannic). The former, being fewer in number, were soon themselves driven into the far reaches of the island, so there would have been little enough love to start with between Cas and these invaders, despite their living just a few miles north of his home town. That and the fact their illustrious leader was a twat.

Next to the twat was his captive, a ridiculously tall Roman soldier with long hair, laden with heavy chains. If this was Dean's brother, they had to each have taken after a different parent. He was, the omega supposed, just as attractive in his own way, but Cas wanted green eyes, bowed legs and an alpha who could be trained to Know His Place. 

He afforded himself a secret smile. This should be interesting.

“Welcome back, omega”, Alistair said curtly. “Brian here says you are come to treat my men for injuries.”

“It is my calling”, Cas smiled. “And after I am done, I will take your captive back to Uxelodunum.”

“Not before I get my gold”, the beta said firmly. 

Several of his men sniggered. Cas sighed.

“You are really going to make me do this, Alistair?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Do what?” the chieftain demanded.

“Very well”, Cas said. “Though with all your men present, I find your timing... curious. I might remind you that last year I treated you for a certain.... matter of under-performance.”

The chieftain had turned an interesting shade of white.

“Involving a key body part”, Cas added. “As the great Cicero said, sunt facta verbis difficiliora (1). And indeed, the matter then was indeed one of hardness – or lack thereof. I recall that you needed several doses of Via Gara (2) before you could.....”

“Enough!” the chieftain screamed. Several of his men were looking at him rather thoughtfully; all alphas, Cas noted. “Go and treat my men for their injuries, and be off with you!”

“Do not forget to have the chains removed by the time I return”, Cas grinned, turning to the other men in the room. “Oh and gentlemen.... that particular concoction is one of my most expensive applications, and is guaranteed to increase and prolong 'hardness' for anyone. I do not carry it with me of course, but if any of you find yourselves in need of.... well, a rise, remember that as a herbalist I serve all.” He looked pointedly at Alistair, who scowled at him. “And provided I am fairly treated, I can be a lot more discreet than I just was. Good day.”

+~+~+

Samus was unchained and ready to go when the omega returned an hour later. Having taken five pre-orders from various clansmen.

“Is my brother all right?” the tall man asked anxiously.

“The fort is partly under siege, but he is safe inside it”, Cas reassured him. “He is fine.”

In both senses, he thought with a smile.

+~+~+  
Notes:   
1) The author suspects that some bastard of an omega just wanted a reference with the word 'hard' in it!  
2) Via gara, literally 'the saucy way'. Available either as an ointment or a set of blue pills, and a major reason why Luguvalium was a town rather than a village.


	12. Indicium Supervacanius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indicium supervacanius = 'excessive detail' (TMI)

Ante diem septem-sex Nonas Aprilae  
[April 3rd-4th]

The tall soldier was mostly silent as they made the long trip back to the town, and the herbalist began to see that there were some points of resemblance between him and his brother alpha, despite the difference in outward appearances. It was cold as they headed south with the threat of rain, but fortunately it was holding off for now.

The omega had taken the precaution of getting a written pass from Alistair in case he ran into any of his men, but he would rather not risk having to use it. Too many Celts tended to attack first and listen to reason never. So it was dark as they left the road and struck out across country to follow the river that the Romans had, mistakenly, called the Isca (1), not knowing that was simply the local word for... well, river. Then they struck across country to the Itouna, to a point where Cas knew an island in the river made it possible to get across at low tide (Brian had warned him that the ford further west was under siege). Unfortunately that meant a wait of an hour or so before they could make the passage, but they were undisturbed and were able to safely wade across.

“Do you know my brother well?” the soldier asked as they shook themselves dry.

Not in the way I would like to, Cas thought wryly. Yet.

“I have met him while on my duties”, he said carefully. “As I told your captor, I see myself as a healer and therefore obliged to treat anyone, no matter their choice of master. I did not want to treat Alistair when I did, but he has an even more unpleasant younger brother called Azazel, and Alistair's wife is a very nice lady. And every time he had a part-erection he was in severe....”

“Indicium supervacaneus!” the soldier yelped. “Way too much!”

Cas grinned.

+~+~+

They detoured slightly to reach Aballaba where, after some checking by the soldiers, they were allowed through. Then it was a gentle walk down the military path that ran the length of the Wall, at least knowing they were relatively safe from danger now. And the path ran all the way to Uxelodunum, though for the last mile or so they could see the fire of the siege camp to the north, and kept as far back as they could from the northern edge. 

On reaching the river they had leave the Wall and follow the path round the nearby town's northern edges, passing Cas' cottage. They had of course been seen from the fort as they had approached, and were a few steps short of the great door in the southern side of the fort when it was thrown open – and there was Dean! He stared at them both incredulously, then stumbled forward and wrapped his arms around his brother, who gasped in shock before returning the embrace. Cas watched with a smile on his face.

Finally Dean let go and stood back, looking appraisingly at his brother.

“You still need a damn haircut!” he snarked. “Bitch!”

“Jerk!” Samus retorted. “Castivel here got me out.”

“I did”, the omega smiled. “And like the conquering hero, I am come to claim my reward.”

“Name it”, Dean said at once. Cas fixed him with a feral look, and the alpha's eyes widened in alarm.

“You!”

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) Now the Esk, a common name for rivers in Northern Britain. Like the Eden it is a fast-flowing river.


	13. Do Ut Des

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do ut des = 'I give that you might give'.

Ante diem sex Nonas Aprilae  
[April 4th]

“What?” 

Dean was quite impressed that he had managed a whole word. All right, maybe an octave higher than usual judging from the moose's smirk, but still, good in the circumstances.

“I have decided that in these dangerous times, I need an alpha to protect me”, Cas said. “You will probably need to resign your commission.”

“Oh”, Dean said, visibly deflated. “Protect you.”

“Protect me. Mate me. Breed me. Hot, heavy fucking every single night....”

The door slammed behind them both as Sam fled into the fort at an impressive speed. Dean stared open-mouthed at the omega.

“And you think I am going to give up the Army just like that?” he demanded. Not that the prospect was unattractive.

“As you are wearing your pteruges, I can see that at least one part of you is in 'firm' agreement with the prospect”, Cas grinned. “Now I just have to persuade your upper brain as well as your lower one.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean asked, his cockiness reasserting itself. “And how are you going to do that, omega?”

Cas' blue eyes darkened, and Dean took an involuntary step back.

“Unless you wish us to couple out here, I suggest you start running for the most isolated room in the fort”, he growled. “That will also allow relatively few of your men to hear you scream!”

Dean would have argued about that, but his instinctive sense of survival already had him through the door and heading for the spare storeroom.

+~+~+

About an hour later Sam decided to check up on his big brother, and asked one of the soldiers where he had gone. Grinning, the man had directed him to a small storehouse up against a corner of the fort's huge walls, and the decurion had actually had his hand on the door-handle when he had heard it.....

“God have mercy!”

Sam's eyes widened. That was his brother's voice, definitely a lot higher than normal. Was Dean in danger? 

“Do ut des (1)”, came Castivel's growl. “Take it, alpha!”

Sam blanched as he heard his brother emit a pleasured moan that, with those words, could only mean.... euw! 

The decurion's speed across the courtyard would have earnt him a place at the Olympic Games.

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) The first 'give' denotes a pitcher (i.e. donor); had Cas been a receiver it would have been 'dor ut des'. One letter that made quite a lot of difference to the picture it conjured up for poor Sam.


	14. Murum Aries Attiget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Murum aries attiget = 'the ram will be touching the wall'. A real Roman saying; they held that, once their siege of a city had begun properly (i.e. the battering-ram, often ending in a carved ram's head, had touched the enemy wall), then they would show no mercy. The analogy was, in this case, quite accurate.

Ante diem quinque Nonas Aprilae  
[April 5th]

It was over a full day after Sam had reached the fort that he finally had a glimpse of what was left of his brother. Dean looked like he had come second in a gladiator battle, limping into the room with a plaintive little whimper at every step. The way he slowly sat down was.... no, Sam was not going to think about it.

Too late. He had thought about it. His alpha brother.... euw!

“So I guess I should welcome Castivel to the family?” he hazarded.

“Not so loud!” Dean hissed. “Oh my head!”

“He wants to marry you?”

“I don't think I'll survive to the wedding”, Dean groaned. “He's broken me, Sammy.”

Cas chose that moment to enter the room himself, looking in rather better shape than the legatus (not difficult). Sam noticed how his brother trembled as the omega approached.

“That was fun”, Cas said. “Make sure you have a hearty breakfast, Dean, then we can go back and start Round Two.”

“Sammy, save me!” Dean looked pleadingly at his brother.

“Sorry Dean”, his brother grinned. “You were always one to boast about your bedroom antics. Well, I'm off before I hear anything else I'll regret.”

“Sammy!”

Cas leaned into Dean's line of vision, and smirked.

“Eat up, beloved”, he growled, pulling a plate of pancakes towards the alpha. “I shall go down to the kitchens and see about getting you some pie.”

Dean smiled at that. The omega stopped at the door.

“After all, you are so going to need all your strength this week!” he grinned. “Murum aries attiget', as you soldiers might say.”

Look, it was a manly whine, dammit!


	15. Mellita, Domi Absum!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mellita, domi absum! = 'honey, I'm home!'

Ante diem novem Kalendis Februariis  
[January 24th]

“Mellita, domi absum!”

There was a Look. Dean thought that today was quite cold, which was why he was shivering. No other reason.

“Honey?” the omega said, rather enjoying the look of terror that had briefly flitted across his husband's face. “Really?”

“Hey, you keep bees. It's appropriate.” Dean hurried over to the cot.

“So what are we going to call him?” the omega asked. “Any ideas less awful than the ones you've had so far?”

Dean looked down at their firstborn. It was hard to believe that it was barely nine months since that scruffy-haired omega had charged into his life, rescued his brother and then...... well, some of the alpha's body parts were no longer on speaking terms with him. Cas had nearly worn him out!

It had been fun, though. And the birth of their son in the small hours of the morning had mercifully been free of complications, though Dean had been hard pressed not to laugh at Cas directing the midwife in between stating quite forcefully what sort of retribution he would be wreaking on his alpha for getting him like this. Dean was sure his hand, which Cas had refused to let go of, would return to its original shape eventually. And some of the omega's suggestions had been quite interesting.

“We have nine days”, he said. “There's no rush, is there?”

“Some of the names you thought appropriate make me think there might be”, the omega yawned. “Come on; who in their right mind would call a child Ioanson? (1)”

“Better than your 'Misha', from some Sarmatian (2) soldier you treated for a skin complaint”, Dean retorted. “I would think of a rash every time I look at our little alpha over there.”

“He had a cousin with a similar name”, Cas said. “Demetrius, from the Greek. I like that name. And there have been lots of famous people called that in history.”

“Please God don't start telling me them all”, Dean complained. “I wouldn't have married you if I'd have known how much of a nerd you were.”

“You married me for the sex”, Cas said simply. “A little more time recovering, then I think we can start up again.”

“All right, Demetrius it is”, Dean agreed, smiling as he sat down on the bed and was immediately joined by his mate. “At least I am getting a few days off.”

Cas remained silent. Dean thought for a moment he had fallen asleep, before he realized just where Cas' hand was heading....

“Oh my Lord!”

“Indeed!” Cas rumbled, before proceeding to once again blow his alpha's mind.

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) Ioannes was the Roman name 'John'. Their alphabet had no J or W, and U and V were the same letter. Jensen is a name of Danish origin, so would not have been known to them.  
2) Sarmatia, roughly equivalent to modern Ukraine. Soldiers from here did serve in Britannia.


	16. Epilogus: Et Semper Postquam Feliciter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Et semper postquam feliciter = 'and they all lived happily ever after'

They pretty much did.

The Great Conspiracy, as a later age would call it, did come close to ending Roman rule in Britannia. It was not until spring of the following year that Emperor Valentinian was able to get together a force strong enough to invade and restore order, and it was a weak order at that. Archaeological evidence suggests that damage done during the uprising was generally not repaired, and the population of the provinces continued its slow decline. Ironically Luguvalium was one of the few places to come out of the time relatively unscathed, and it was helped when it became the capital of a new Britannic province called Valentia (after the emperor, of course!), the Romans trying to reassert some control over the lands to the North. But the enemies of the Empire were gathering and growing ever stronger, and the good times would not last

Shortly after the birth of their first-born Dean was offered the garrison command at Uxelodunum on the retirement of Rovertus, who moved in with Ellen in her tavern. Cas had of course originally wanted his alpha to quit the army completely, but accepted his taking the post provided Dean did not go out on duty himself at all. When one time Dean did try to sneak out on patrol, his omega inevitably found out and was Severely Displeased.

Dean was unable to walk without wincing for three whole days. And the smirks on his men's faces were something he could have well done without, let alone his catching them paying out on wagers with each other!

The two had a happy life together from their home in the fort, a home that was soon full of twelve very boisterous children. In 383 the country was rocked by the revolt of Magnus Maximus, who clearly had ambitions of becoming emperor himself, and five years later he was ready to strike for the empire itself. Fortunately for Dean this coincided with the end of his military service, and Cas decided to move the whole family to the relative safety of the south, where their new neighbours soon came to appreciate their house's relative isolation. And to also know exactly who ruled the roost; Cas might play the dutiful omega at public functions, but at home he was master of the house, and Dean was his very willing slave. 

FINIS (The End)

+~+~+  
Notes:  
The Roman calendar used in these stories was, frankly, bizarre. The Romans had three keys dates in each month; the Kalends, Nones and Ides. The Kalends (hence 'calendar') was the first day of each month, but the others varied. In March, May, July and October the Nones were on the seventh and the Ides the fifteenth, but in the other months the Nones were the ninth and the Ides the thirteenth. It is thought that the Ides were originally full-moon days and the Nones half-moon days.  
The calendar worked backwards, so non-special days were named for how many days it was (counting inclusively) between it and the next special day. The day before each special day was labelled pridie ('pre-day'), and others ante diem ('days before'). So for example what we would call November 17th was ante diem quindecim Kalendis Decembris – fifteen days before the first of December. Perfectly logical (!).  
It's also worth noting that six months of the Roman year were, rather boringly, named for the numbers five through ten – Quintilis, Sextilis, September, October, November and December (the Roman year had originally started in March and finished in February). This lasted until the second century BC when three months were added before it – Ianuarius, Februarius and Mercedonius, the last being a leap-month to keep the years and seasos in line (though corrupt politicians abused it for their own ends, of course). Under Julius Caesar's reformed calendar (first century AD) Februarius had thirty days and thirty-one in a leap-year, but when the Romans renamed Quintilis and Sextilis after him (a small reward for twenty-three of them having stabbed him to death in the Senate!) and his successor Augustus, they added a day to Iulius and Augustus, and took those days off Februarius because that month finished with an unpopular religious observance that people were happy to see shortened by two days. Other Roman emperors later tried renaming months after themselves – mad Commodus (of 'Gladiator' infamy) tried it with all twelve! - but none of these later changes stuck.  
Finally, the years. Although Roman historians use their own system today, the Romans at the time named each year for who held the position of consul, the highest elected post in the Empire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five timestamps ahead so bookmark the series if you want to be reminded, though they will be published on consecutive days like the main series has been.


End file.
